


moi et mes mains

by cosmicpoet



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Disability, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 05:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15042287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Kaede gets diagnosed with Carpal Tunnel, and she needs her friends.





	moi et mes mains

Kaede pounds at her piano, progressing from the beautiful solemnity of Chopin to something horrifying and discordant; the pain in her hands is back again, and she’s tired of not being able to play for longer than ten minutes at a time. Actually…she’s just _tired,_ nowadays. The only thing in life that she was truly good at, something that calmed her and got her through the harsh world, is now causing her immense pain. When she misses another note due to her fingers cramping up, she slams the lid of the piano down and stands up from her seat so forcefully that she feels a rush of blood to her head and almost faints.

Turning her hands over in front of her eyes, she examines her palms and knuckles, trying to find any bruises or cuts that would bump or split to cause her pain. But there’s nothing. She knows that her hands have never been the prettiest, no matter how much hand cream she borrows from Tenko, but something still feels off.

Worried, she phones up the doctor and makes herself an appointment for tomorrow. For the rest of the day, she finds her whole body itching with the ache of a phantom inside her; staring longingly at her piano, she has to bite her lip and resist the temptation to push through the pain and just play anyway. Despite her hardened morality that nothing can be truly bad when she’s engulfed in the sweet waves of music, she can’t bring herself to play again - her hands still hurt, and all she can find the motivation to do is curl up in her bed and cry.

_Carpal Tunnel Syndrome._ That’s what the doctor calls it. But all Kaede feels is shame, shame, shame. She’s a pianist, now she’s going to be a pianist who can’t play. 

Still, the doctor reassures her, as she cries in the stupid plastic chair that’s making her back hurt, that she could be able to play again. She just needs to go through wrist-splint therapy for six weeks, and if that doesn’t work, then there’s always surgery, but she doesn’t want to put her hands - her only valuable asset - through something so unnerving. It’s with a sad smile and a teary ‘thank you’ that she leaves the doctor’s office, her hands bound in thick, hot splints. She regrets crying earlier, and again to the doctor, not because she’s ashamed - no, her shame is saved exclusively for her hands - but because she still wants to let all of her tears flow, and she simply has none left.

The splints are uncomfortable and she’s clumsy in them. It takes her a few tries to get full use of her phone; it’ll take a while for her to get used to the awkwardness of them, but she eventually manages to open up her contacts. Debating whether to call Maki or Shuichi, she internalises all her feelings instead - what if they hate her or feel annoyed by her whining about her own pain? She knows that they’ve all got their own things to deal with, and adding to that would just make her a burden. With her mind telling her that she simply cannot burden them, she decides to call Kaito. Even though he still struggles with his pain, she knows it makes him feel happy and validated to help others.

“Hey, Kaede!” Kaito’s bright voice comes through the speakers. Again, she wants to cry.

“Hey…Kaito,” she says, trying to keep her voice upbeat.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just…I…can we meet somewhere? Say, the café on the corner of your street in fifteen minutes?”

“Sure. You got this. I’ll see you soon.”

Kaede drops her phone as she hangs up. Murmuring swear words under her breath, she managesto pick it up again and shove it in her bag, grabbing her coat and keys on her way out. The walk is short and brisk, and the fresh air seems to clear her mind a little, but she’s still distraught when she sees Kaito smiling at her outside the café.

“What’s happened, Kaede?”

“I…let’s go inside, Kaito. I could use a nice hot chocolate.”

They both order, and as Kaede gets her purse out, Kaito moves to push her hand away, but stops when he sees her wrist splints. She’s taken aback by the fact that he says nothing, and as he hands over his money to pay for both of their drinks, she walks away to try and find somewhere quiet to sit. Without even looking at the table in front of her, she slumps down in one of the faux-leather chairs and waits for Kaito. He’s holding a tray with both of their drinks when he comes over, but he doesn’t sit down. Instead, his face screws up a little and he looks at her a little sadly.

“Can we sit somewhere else?”

“Why? This is -” Kaede says, before seeing the newspaper on table, “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s a nice little table right at the back over there.”

They walk there together, and once they’re sitting down, Kaito doesn’t immediately launch into a long stream of words and questions.

“Kaito,” she says, “I’m sorry for not noticing the table.”

“It’s alright. I don’t expect you to have my needs at the forefront of your mind all the time.”

“Still…I want to talk to you about something related to your…needs.”

“Kaede,” Kaito laughs, “you can say Sensory Processing Disorder. It’s no big deal. What’s up?”

“Well, you live with that, right? Like, every day. And I…”

“What have you got?”

“Carpal Tunnel.”

“Ah…shit.”

“Yeah. And…well I mean…piano, right?”

“Yeah…that sucks, I’m sorry.”

“How do you just…deal with it? Like your whole life has to revolve around what you can and can’t do because of your…Sensory Processing Disorder. And I? I just don’t think I’m that strong.”

“You are. You see what I did before. I couldn’t sit near a newspaper because of the texture, so I simply didn’t. I’m still alive. Sure, it would have been nice to sit on those leather chairs, but I’m not gonna die ‘cause of it. And yeah, it’s horrible that you can’t play piano for a while, but that doesn’t mean your life is over.”

“To me it seems like it is.”

“I know. But you can still compose without actually playing, right? You can still kinda hear the music in your head when it’s on a stave, yeah?”

“I…suppose.”

“Look, I’m not gonna pretend like I have all the best advice. I guess…this is stopping you from doing what you love , isn’t it?”

Kaede nods.

“So,” Kaito puts his arm around her shoulder and she leans into him, a kind of friendly intimacy that she would never have dreamed of developing before she got to know him, “speak to Shuichi. He…well, he gets this, with his detective stuff and all that. And I want you to know that you’re not alone. C’mon, I’ll walk you back to ours, and you can talk to him there. Me and Maki Roll and Shuichi are gonna be here for you through this. I promise.”

He traces a cross over the left side of his chest and smiles at her, waiting for her to finish her drink and then letting her loop her arm through his as they leave the café. On the walk back, he makes sure to take it slow; Kaede wonders if he’s trying to pace her so that she doesn’t get overwhelmed, but she just feels agitated - she wants to be _there_ already, so she can just get this over with.

Still, Kaito smiles at her as he unlocks the door and directs her up the stairs to Shuichi’s bedroom. He pushes open the door for her, probably with good intentions, and she walks inside.

“H-H-Hey, K-Kaede,” Shuichi stutters, “w-what can I d-do f-f-for you?”

“Hey. I just…I, uh…how are you doing?”

“M-Me? I’m…o-okay. I-I remembered a w-whole day r-recently.”

“And your stutter is getting so much better! Look at us having a proper conversation, we thought we couldn’t do that a year ago!”

“Y-Yeah…w-well…l-last year I was s-s-still…on the b-booze. S-So I g-g-guess that m-made it w-worse.”

“I’m proud of you for quitting, y’know?”

“I-It was h-h-hard, sure, b-but I’m a useless f-failure f-for g-getting addicted in t-the first p-place. L-Look where it l-l-landed me.”

“You’re getting better, though. You even said so yourself. You remembered a whole day without any gaps.”

“I-I suppose,” Saihara says, taking a breath and trying to calm his stutter, “b-but what did y-you w-w-want to talk about?”

“Well…it’s kinda related to your Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome.”

“Y-You’re n-n-not…?”

“No, I’m not drinking. Don’t worry. It’s just…I found out today…” she sighs, “I’ve got Carpal Tunnel.”

“S-Shit.”

“Yeah. I spoke to Kaito before. Thought he might have some advice considering that he’s dealing with shit that affects him. He was kind, but he told me you might…know more, y’know?”

“Y-Yeah…I g-get that. I b-bet he told you i-it was ‘cause I f-forgot s-so much and h-h-had to give up h-helping my uncle,” Shuichi’s eyes tear up, and Kaede tries to backtrack.

“No, no, don’t worry! I mean…he did tell me that, yeah, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I-It’s f-fine, Kaede,” Shuichi says, “y-you’re one of my c-c-closest friends. A-And I can s-see where Kaito’s coming f-from…w-we both have illnesses t-that impact our l-livelihoods. I c-can’t be a very good d-d-detective if I c-can’t remember m-most t-things.”

“You’re doing great as you are, Shuichi.”

“I-I’m sorry I’m not m-more help,” Shuichi stutters, and Kaede lays and hand on his arm.

“You’re doing fine.”

“Y-You c-could talk to M-Maki? I know h-her c-c-chronic illness is m-more physical…s-so s-she might b-be able to g-g-give you some advice?”

“Thanks, Shuichi. I got your back. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

He nods, and Kaede takes leave from his room. On her way out, she bumps into Kaito again. He’s walking downstairs with a distressed look on his face.

“You alright?” Kaede asks.

“Yeah,” he says, “it’s just a bad day for Maki. She’s staying in bed ‘cause the pain is too much, so I’m gonna bring her some tea. Hey, wanna help?”

“Sure.”

As they make their way to the kitchen together, Kaito stays silent. He boils the kettle and starts to prepare Maki’s tea. Kaede walks over to the fridge and opens it, turning to Kaito.

“Is she hungry?”

“Probably.”

“We could make her something to eat?”

“That sounds like a good idea. But…I can’t cook,” he laughs slightly.

“I can. Don’t worry, we don’t even need to cook anyway. We can make something light.”

She takes a punnet of strawberries out of the fridge, remembering how Maki likes sweet things; when she sees a can of whipped cream, she pulls that out too. Once she’s cut the leaves off each strawberry and put them all in a bowl, she squirts cream all over them. At the same time, Kaito finishes making her tea. He pulls a tray out from one of the cupboards and puts everything on it.

Looking at her hands, Kaede hates that she can’t be the one to take the food up to Maki, but Kaito smiles at her as he instinctively takes the tray; Kaede suspects, or at least hopes, that Kaito gets some sort of hero-complex satisfaction from being the one to give it to Maki.

Her bedroom is on the bottom floor, because it’s easy for her to get around without having to climb stairs constantly. Once Kaito puts the tray down on her bed, he leaves, and Kaede is alone with one of her best friends.

“Kaito told me,” Maki says. Kaede whips her head around to see Maki, barely sitting up in bed. Kaede moves the tray closer to her, and Maki smiles, taking the bowl of strawberries and eating one.

“Yeah, uh, I’m sorry. I don’t wanna bother you on a bad day.”

“Kaede, it’s fine. I manage.”

“You don’t look okay right now.”

“I’m just in bed. It’s easier, you know? But I can still give you advice.”

Kaede, exhausted from trying all day to find some solution - _any solution -_ to her problem, finds that tears prick into her eyes. As much as she hates not being strong for her friend in pain, she can’t help but cry silently into her hands; she hears shifting in the bed that she’s sitting on, and when Maki rubs her back, she genuinely does feel a little better. 

“Look, dealing with chronic pain is hard,” Maki says, “but we all have to deal with the hand we’re given. You’re not gonna lose any talent because of your wrist splints, and you’ll be able to play again, I know it.”

“B-But what if I can’t?” Kaede chokes out. 

“Then we’ll figure out something when… _if_ … that time comes.”

“But you…how can you just…deal with fibromyalgia every day? Don’t you just…”

“Feel useless? Feel in pain all the time? Feel like I can’t do even the simplest things? Feel like I’m worthless? Look, Kaede, sure, I’ve felt those things, but so have most people, even if they don’t have a chronic illness. Life sucks, and it sucks even more that I might have developed this because of my…past…but it’s what I’ve got to deal with. Whether I’m all mopey or whether I’m Kaito-level positive all the time, I’m still gonna have fibromyalgia. I can’t just change that. So I do the next best thing, and I deal with it.”

“You’re stronger than I am, though, Maki.”

“Bullshit. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You just need to believe that now. God…I said _believe._ I’m turning into Kaito.”

Kaede laughs genuinely for the first time today.

“That might not be a bad thing,” she says, “Kaito is cool.”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m dating him. But still…we can get you back into piano without, y’know, actually having you play piano.”

“How?”

“We need Kaito and Shuichi…I’ll g -”

“No you won’t. Stay there, I’ll go get them.”

“Alright, Kaede. Get some pen and paper, too.”

When Kaede returns, her friends following behind her, Maki smiles.

“Right,” she says, “now you’ve gotta think of a piano in your head.”

Kaede does so.

“Kaito,” Maki continues, “you had piano lessons in high school. You still remember how to draw a stave?”

“Yeah,” Kaito says, picking up the paper and drawing a rough stave for treble and bass clef. 

“Right, Kaede,” Maki says, “think about all your sadness and anger. Imagine taking out on the piano. What notes do you hear?”

“I…what?”

“C’mon, you can do it. Just think about what notes you wish you could play.”

“Uh…a C Minor chord. Staccato. And… _fff.”_

“Nice choice.”

“Then…a G, fast, followed by a B flat that deepens into an F, I guess?”

“We’re getting somewhere,” Maki smiles; Kaede watches as Kaito writes the notes down, “so what now?”

“A…another C Minor chord, both right and left hand. And then…I want an A flat, really soft but also angry… _con fuoco.”_

“Sorry, Kaede,” Kaito says, “but I don’t know what that one means.”

“Oh…uh…kinda…like fire? That’s what it translates to.”

They go on like this for a few hours, with Kaede dictating and closing her eyes to really visualise the stave. Once she’s decided that she’s finished, Kaito passes the sheet music to her.

“We need a title,” Shuichi says.

“How about…” Kaede says, thinking, “ _Moi et mes Mains?”_

“Me and my hands,” Kaito translates without a second thought, “nice. Fitting.”

“Thank you,” Kaede says, clutching the sheet music to her chest. _Moi et mes Mains._ Complete with possibility. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was for my wonderful friend Nebbie [@spbeb](http://www.twitter.com/spbeb)! Thank you for always making my life beautiful and for inspiring this fic.


End file.
